Stress Relief
by Striped-Hoodies
Summary: Your name is Green Oak and you just don't know what to do.
1. Chapter 1

Your name is Green Oak and you have just come across a letter on your desk that hasn't been there before. At least, you think.

What could this be for? Hopefully whatever's inside it is something important enough to be on your desk—I mean, look at it. Fancy wax and everything. Though the note scrawled on your desk makes you frown just a teeny bit.

_**Sorry for breaking in.**_

_** - Lance. **_

It'd be a shame if it was just a waste of your time.

…Wait a minute.

**_ - Lance_**

Oh _fuck _no.

You are appalled by the sudden realization that _Lance_, of all people, had broken into your own apartment—all for one goddamned letter. Sure, it had some kickass wax on it, but it's a _letter_ for god's sake. Wasn't there something that you could deliver mail to? What was it called? Oh, right—a _mailbox._ Completely forgot about those damned things for a minute there. What could we _ever _do without 'em? Plus the dude's a damn champion, so he should at least have some respect by delivering mail like a normal person would. That and not wear a stupid-ass cape all the time.

You move your fingers across the surface of the paper, stopping at the wax print in the middle, shifting your eyes around—analyzing the piece of fucking paper put out before you. You take a deep breath as you grasp the letter…

…And throw it across the room.

* * *

Your name is _still _Green Oak and you solemnly refuse to climb out of your bed.

Though it's not all bad that you're wrapped up in your blankets right now, since it seems to be unbearably cold—it being about five o'clock in the morning. You can feel every single outtake of breath warming up your face slightly more than it already is, but your feet are practically blocks of ice by now. You have absolutely no clue how in the world that's supposed to work, but whatever.

Though the fact that you're actually sick doesn't really help your current situation.

You think this may have been caused by the fact that your stress levels have been increasing since it was the time of month where you had to start paying your taxes and all of that bullshit, plus additional paperwork for your gym; as a matter of fact, you _know _that's why you're sick.

You see, a certain childhood friend and/or rival that seemingly crushed all of your hopes and dreams of becoming the world's greatest Pokémon trainer in Kanto, making you redirect your life goals into one giant mess of thoughts and other bullshit that probably only existed to drown out the things that were pushing you back, until you finally had a sense of direction of where to go in your present days as a Gym Leader in Kanto (and a tough one at that)—is now..Living with you. Staying inside your residence. Whatever suits your tastes, really.

But you do admit that it was probably the best for the both of you, and now hold nothing against your rival. Hopefully.

You shift a little inside the blankets, shivering from the cold air that seeps through the small openings that allow you to breathe better. If only you could just fall back into a peaceful slumber…

You sneeze in the most unflattering manner possible. Good thing no one can see you.

Your phone buzzes from your pants pocket, and continues to do so as you take it out, the light emanating from it blinding your field of vision. Goddamn does that hurt your eyes.

You squint a little trying to read the messages someone left you.

**From Unknown Number**: Green.

**From Unknown Number:** Have you opened the letter I delivered to you yet?

**From Unknown Number:** We need your response ASAP.

What.

_What._

You stare at the screen, blinking several times as you contemplate what the hell this is. A minute passes as your fingers start to move.

**To Unknown Number:** Lance

**To Unknown Number:** may I ask you how in the fucking world you got my number

You wait.

**From Unknown Number:** Um.

**From Unknown Number:** If you answer my question I will.

You cough a few times.

**To Unknown Number: **nah man

**To Unknown Number:** I think you can start off by telling me something

**To Unknown Number:** perhaps WHY YOU BROKE INTO MY HOUSE

**From Unknown Number:**….Um.

**To Unknown Number:** don't you fucking um me mister

**To Unknown Number:** You can tell me why you broke into my house, _or _you can tell me how you got my number.

**To Unknown Number:** Choose one or you get nothing out of me. Both is fine too.

You sigh.

**From Unknown Number:** Alright, fine.

**From Unknown Number:** Gold gave me your number.

You sigh deeply.

**From Unknown Number:** And I didn't break into your house, Koga did. All I did was write the note on your desk.

What in the ever-loving fuck.

You shudder in horror.

**To Unknown Number: **oh god why would you let that geezer break into my house

**To Unknown Number: **but no

**To Unknown Number: **I didn't open the stupid letter

**To Unknown Number:** but doesn't that count as breaking into my house if you wrote the note on my desk

**From Unknown Number:** …

Wait a fucking minute.

**To Unknown Number:** Wait

**To Unknown Number:** Hold the phone here

**From Unknown Number:** What?

**To Unknown Number:** why are you messaging me at five in the morning

**From Unknown Number:** Are you serious.

**From Unknown Number:** You, the one who basically never sleeps more than three hours a week and still manages to stay awake, is suddenly asking me that.

**To Unknown Number:** I know, but why are _you _awake right now

**To Unknown Number:** I would've thought everyone else besides me would be, y'know

**To Unknown Number:** asleep

Your eyes actually feel droopy for once.

Or is that just the twitching?

**From Unknown Number:** Actually, I'm heading off to bed right now.

**From Unknown Number:** Go yell at someone else.

**To Unknown Number:** ha

**To Unknown Number:** hahahahahaha

**To Unknown Number:** no

You shut off your phone and close your eyes (you decide you're done with his shit for the day); for the first time this week, you sleep.

And damn does it feel nice. (Besides the fact that your face is practically on fire by now, of course.)

* * *

Your name is Lance and you're still wearing your stupid cape. At five in the morning. In your pajamas.

And you're asleep.

Moving on.

* * *

Your name _isn't _Lance and you're currently stuck on what else to write for this first chapter.

In fact you've been at this very spot for over four hours now, erase after erase of meaningless text. You got pretty distracted by all of these Beyond: Two Souls streams and whatnot.

Curse those fantastic games.

You come to the realization that you've been holding the release for this new story of yours for at least two weeks now, and haven't done anything about it. So you're now quickly documenting your lack of care for your new story, **_Stress Relief,_**before your irritated mother yells at you to go to your room and sleep.

You save your apology somewhere and run to your room, forgetting to turn off your computer.

* * *

**Happy Holloweenie you fuckers**

***Edit* Fixed minor mistakes in the text, whoops. **


	2. Chapter 2

Spin.

You are currently a young trainer who happens to be inside Viridian City's gym—of which happens to be run by one of the most revered names in Kanto, (besides another gym leader by the name of Lt. Surge— who was said to be able to slam dunk a basketball with so much force that the hoop _and _the stand would topple over and sink into the depths of hell and beyond) and are currently traversing through the infamous maze-of-things-that-make-you-go-in-all-sorts-of-tesioud-directions. You're attempting to get through it in the most unruly fashion you can—and you swear you can hear someone giggling to themselves somewhere. Though you're too focused on not falling on your face to care.

You look up and see that you have suddenly stopped, and are standing near two pathways that go either up or to the side, followed by the end of the gym. You can see the gym's leader staring straight at you, following your every move—seeing what you decide to do next. You look towards the floor, gulping. You've done this a million times before, yet you always fail to remember exactly what to do next. Fuck it, you think, taking a deep breath.

You step forward.

"Took 'ya that long?" The gym leader says, sneering. "Then again, it wasn't as bad as the first time you came along."

"Jesus, dude, go through your own hell of a gym once and awhile or somethin'," You reply. "Let's just get this damn battle started."

"Mmhm," He reaches for his bag tossed somewhere in a corner or the platform, tossing it over his shoulder. "Be ready to get your assed kicked."

"I've _been _ready," you reply, and this time you're the one to sneer.

Your name is Gold-probably-doesn't-have-a-last-name, and you hope—just a little bit—that maybe this time you won't be the one to get their ass handed to them.

* * *

Your name is Green Oak and you've just kicked this Gold dude's ass for about the hundredth time this month.

The first time you were challenged by the dude you noticed that he was a total dick, who had come from Johto to challenge the _other _eight gyms in Kanto. This is gonna be a breeze, you thought. (Remember the fact that you used to be a really, _really _annoying douchebag back then)

Ten minutes into the match and you just _knew _you were totally screwed, even though you had five of your Pokémon still standing while Gold only had three. It was like one of those times where you knew you were about to spectacularly mess up the entire order of your not-messing-everything-up streak, but you say "Fuck it, I'm gonna go ahead and do it," and do whatever it is that you did anyways.

So you lost, and watching the guy jump around in circles before tripping and sending himself all the way back to the very beginning of the floor-puzzle made you feel a little bit better somehow.

You toss him his badge once he gets back and send him on his way, but you decide to stop him before he steps off the platform. You didn't mean to, but something had stopped you from not doing so.

"Hey, kid," You start, "ever heard of before?"

* * *

Now back to the present where you just kicked Gold's ass. Right.

"You already have your badge," You retreat your last Pokémon after muttering a short thanks, "So why are you still challenging me every week?"

"I get bored," He replies.

"Right." You do that weird whistle thingy with your fingers, catching the attention of the trainers scattered around the premise. "That'll be good for today, guys!"

"D'you want us to lock up for you?" One of them asks. You shake your head in response. Once all of them somehow manage to safely slide outside, you press a switch hidden at the same spot where your bag used to be; the sliding panels dim down and anon they turn off.  
"Why didn't you do that _before _they started to—" Gold stopped mid-sentence, eyes widening a little upon the sudden realization that you were a total asshole. "—_Oh._"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" You ask, though you're well aware of how much of an asshole you are.

"Nevermind." He says in response. "So are we gonna…get outta here anytime soon?"

"Unless you were planning on having a sleep-over here, then sure."

"Shut up," Gold starts for the door. "Same time tomorrow?"

"Jesus, no. I'm takin' a personal tomorrow." You stretch. "All of this fucking paperwork's been getting ridiculous lately."

"What if I do 'em for 'ya?" Gold offers. "Or at least…help you with it."

You laugh. Not that "Oh, what a hilarious thing you just said!" kind of laugh, but more like a "Dude, did you just fucking say that?" kind of laugh. If that makes any sense. (Probably not.)

"No way in hell am I letting you touch any of that." You also start for the door, "Thanks for the offer, though."

"Fuckin' rude." Gold mutters.

"As rude as can be," You reply. You kick the door open (and a little part of you hopes that it doesn't break or something) and step outside, the little fuckface following in tow. Even as you head back towards your apartment, the little shit mongrel stays at least three paces behind you. You try to act as calm as possible, though you're seriously starting to get annoyed by the short-stack's loud stomps from behind.

You start to realize that it's a lot darker than it should be, as for the sun should still be at a considerable distance upwards. Or something.

The walk back home seems to last for-fucking-ever, and it seems that Gold has gone off to his own business, and you give a little nod of relief. You kick your door open (and you think that's becoming a worse habit than choosing to not lock your doors), and upon taking your first steps into the living area, you immediately speed into action.

You throw your bag somewhere on the floor, strip your jacket off, fling your shoes somewhere else on the floor, and make a dash into the hallway towards your room. Somewhere along the way you think to yourself," Fuck it, I'm sleeping on the couch," and make a full 360 back into the living area, crashing onto your couch.

Maybe you'll worry about cleaning up tomorrow.

* * *

Your name is Red-probably-doesn't-have-a-last-name-either, and you wake up to see your rival sleeping soundly on the couch. At first you think, "Aw man, he must've been tired again," but then you take a look at the floor and all of his scattered shit everywhere and you change your thoughts to, "Wow, he must've been _really _fucking tired." (Jeez man, what's with all of these characters without last names? At least the main, _main _character has one.)

You decide not to disturb his messy sleeping habits, and carefully excuse yourself somewhere else.

An hour or so later, you walk back into the living area, all of this shit on the floor no longer there—Green isn't anywhere in your field of vision, either.

And it was only an hour ago that you caught him practically in a coma.

You walk around the rest of the rather small apartment trying to figure out where your rival could've wandered off to, and how he could've possibly cleaned up all of his shit quietly enough for you not to notice in the next room over.

You note that he seems to be less of an arrogant moron than he was a few years ago.

You stop at his room door eyeing a sticky-note that clearly wasn't there before.

**in here**

**-Green **

Oh.

You frown a little, as your lap or two around the house have now amounted to nothing. What a shame.

You head back into the living room in hopes of finding something to do while you have the house to yourself.

* * *

You are now that one dude in a practical coma, and you're not really in a coma anymore.

Though your head's feeling pretty fucked up now that you're fully—almost fully—awake.

At first you think to yourself, "Eugh, did I fucking get hyped up on some wacky shit or something?" But you shake your head, no, that's impossible, you decide. Then what was it? Was your cold deciding to come back only a few days after it goes away? You hope that's not the case.

You spot your bag in one corner of your room, and your jacket draped on your chair. But where in the world was your towel?

…Towel? What the hell dude, you think to yourself. Maybe you did get into some weird shit or something. Who knows? You certainly don't.

You make an effort to sit yourself up, but that only results in you tumbling graciously onto the floor face first.

Only then do you manage to prop yourself against the foot of your bed, and after a good five minutes you give up and lean your head back onto your mattress. You stare at the ceiling for quite some time before remembering the fact that you actually live with someone now, and that your resident probably heard your fall from whichever room he was in at the time, since your apartment wasn't exactly the biggest in size. But it was enough for the two you, at least.

You decide that you've stayed on the floor for long enough, and use the last of your remaining willpower to hop yourself up and make your way towards the door…

And trip on your shoes two steps later.

* * *

Thud.

You are now that one ruddy fellow and you've just heard a loud thump from somewhere within the apartment. Your first guess is that Green probably fell on the floor again.

You stand up from your current position on the couch, and head on over to your rival's room. Once at his door, you careful twist the door knob and push, and once the room comes into full view your conclusion is proven right after all.

Your rival is laying face-down on the floor, unmoving.

You stare at him for several seconds, and you focus your attention on the rest of his room.

What a fucking mess, you think.

You shift your eyes back at Green only to see him sleeping (remember that he's face-down on the floor), and you frown a little more than when you first came into the room. You decide to try to lift the former up and carry him onto his bed, and though you do manage to do just that, it takes a considerable amount of time to do so. (And as you carry him in your arms, you think to yourself, "Damn, he's fucking heavy as hell," before noticing how peaceful he looks while sleeping. "Damn, fucking adorable." You think, immediately shaking your head profusely and dismissing it.) You decide to leave the cleaning up to your stressed-filled idiot of a rival, and leave him to himself.

* * *

Your name is Gold and you've been trying to text a certain arrogant-son-of-a-waffle for awhile now.

**To Greenie Shitface: **Yo man where the fuck are u

**To Greenie Shitface: ** did u get killed by someone yet

**To Greenie Shitface: **I mean thats kinda a possibility since u dont lock ur damn doosr

**To Greenie Shitface: ** or are u ignoring me

**To Greenie Shitface: **I bet u fucking are dickbag

**To Greenie Shitface: **well fuck u then

**To Greenie Shitface:** Im out

You make a face at your screen and try to find someone else to talk to.

**To Silver 3: **are u gonna ignore me like green did

**Silver 3 is typing…**

Bingo.

**From Silver 3: **What?

**To Silver 3: **uhm

**To Silver 3:** nothing

**From Silver 3:** So what do you want?

**To Silver 3: **I WANT _YOU_

**From Silver 3: ** WHAT IF _I _DON'T WANT _YOU_?

**To Silver 3: **does it look like that would matter

**To Silver 3: **were practically homo for each othre

You don't hear from Silver for awhile.

You frown and turn your phone off again, keeping it in your pocket in case either of the two respond. For the next ten or so minutes, you just lay there, staring at the ceiling; thinking.

Though you're probably thinking about some _other _things.

Bzzt.

Your phone vibrates, and it seems that Green has replied to your messages upon checking it.

**From Greenie Shitface: **if that's how you wanna roll with it

**From Greenie Shitface: **then alright

**To Greenie Shitface: **wait so u werent ignoring me or some shit

**From Greenie Shitface: **why would I do that though

**To Greenie Shitface: **cause ur a fucking asshole thats why

**From Greenie Shiface: **assholes can care for people every now and then

**From Greenie Shitface: **they would like to be nicer more often but they just don't care enough to

**From Greenie Shitface: **maybe because of how much shit they got from others

**From Greenie Shitface: **it is a mystery

**To Greenie Shitface: **i can see where ur goin with this

**To Greenie Shitface: **…maybe

**From Greenie Shitface: **good

You don't hear from him again for awhile. Maybe he's busy? You don't know.

You try to find some other people to talk to.

* * *

Your name is Green Oak and you've just been contacted by someone.

**From Fashionista Extraordinaire: **yo.

**To Fashionista Extraordinaire: **what happened this time

You expect Ruby to tell you of another weird fucking problem he has with his clothes or whatever, but it seems like that's not the case this time.

**From Fashionista Extraordinaire: **if you're talking about my clothes, then nothing.

**From Fashionista Extraordinaire: **my issue's a little more important than that.

You can't believe what you're seeing.

**To Fashionista Extraordinaire:** are you saying

**To Fashionista Extraordinaire: **that the dude who spends literally over seven hours of his night thinking about his wardrobe for the _next fucking month _

**To Fashionista Extraordinaire: **is telling me something else is more important than clothes

**From Fashionista Extraordinaire: **….yeah.

**From Fashionista Extraordinaire: **though it's rude for you to be calling out my late sleeping hours.

**From Fashionista Extraordinaire: **i don't have to drain through 20 cups of coffee to keep myself awake because i pull all-nighters every other night.

**To Fashionista Extraordinaire: **well I'll give you that one

**To Fashionista Extraordinaire: **so what's your deal

Ruby takes a minute (or five) to respond back.

**From Fashionista Extraordinaire: **i wanna ask saph out on one of those…

**From Fashionista Extraordinaire: **…_dates, _but i can't seem to muster up the courage to ask.

**From Fashionista Extraordinaire: **i would ask someone else, but you're the closest to a straight person i've got.

**To Fashionista Extraordinaire: **hahahhHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAH

**To Fashionista Extraordinaire: **THAT'S FUCKING HILARIOUS, RUBY

**To Fashionista Extraordinaire: …**but are you sure you wanna ask me about this kinda thing

**From Fashionista Extraordinaire: **with the amount of dates you've scored within the past couple of years, yes.

Even though it's true that you've struck up a lot of dates with women in the past (though most were unintentional and were called off before they even began), most of it was because of your incredible Oak charm.

No one resists the Oak charm.

…Red would, but that doesn't matter. Screw Red.

(Haha.)

You spend the next twenty minutes or so arranging a meet-up at a café in Celadon with Ruby (he and Sapphire had been visiting Kanto for the upcoming summit at the Indigo Plateau, that summit being the one that you've been trying to ignore for the past week or so.) The last ten minutes of your conversation with Ruby was you yelling at him for not mentioning that he was in Kanto _with Sapphire_, and because of that you would have to make sure she wouldn't find out about the contents of the meet-up.

Once that ends, you do your usual going-out prep (which is essential since you look like a fucking feebass right now) and silently head out of your room and into the main living area. You tell Red about your meet-up with Ruby (excluding the whole date thing, of course) before he interrupts midway through your goodbye.

"The door," He says.

"What about it?"

"Lock it."

You laugh and throw a pillow at him.

* * *

**I tried and failed**

**huehueheuheuehe**


End file.
